“You know, sometimes it’s hard to see in the dark. Especially when you’re blinded by a blindfold. Well, I am a lucky person, I must say. With my glowing red-eyes I could perfectly see in the dark, and right through that blindfold.”
The big crowd was shouting and yelling, and 10,000 fists were in the air. Some were standing on their seats and thus blocking the view for other spectators. It was really noisy and the crowd mainly consisted of drunken fools and hooligans. Yes, you have guessed it correct, this whole scene was taking place in the lower levels of Coruscant, the glorious cityplanet. Heart of the very Republic itself. Have you never wondered why, the heart of the Republic, was so dark and ugly. Well, at least the lower levels were. No? You’ve never thought about that? Then you really should pay a visit to those levels one day, and see the misery for yourself.
Anyway, this is not about the lower levels. Though this scene does take place there, as explained above.
In a big old factory which was last used hundreds of years ago, a big cage was set up. Some benches surrounding it, and a lot of thugs sitting on them. In that cage two men were fighting each other to the death.
Yeah, welcome to the glorious heart of the republic.
A handsome young man wearing a dark red longcoat, a black shirt, black leather gloves, dark grey pants and black boots, stood in the corner of the big hall. Remarkable were his ruby-red eyes and his snow-white hair, though his hair could not be seen since he was wearing a beanie.
That man stood there with his arms crossed, and he appeared to be bored as hell. He watched the fight and sighed. Those fighters were strong, but not skilled. They were just smashing like animals and trashing each other up like drunkards, and a lot of blood was flowing. If that red-eyed man had been in that cage, he would have won by now, because he was skilled. But that was not what he came here for. In fact, he came here to kill someone who was not a fighter at all.
This assassin was no-one less than Tyro Fen.
‘Fools…’ Tyro thought to himself. ‘…But it’s money, and I need money. Where’s that target?’
He looked around the area but could not immediately find the one he was after. He put both his hands in the pockets of his longcoat, and in the left pocket was a combat knife and in the right pocket was his magnum. He had not brought his enormous sword, because it would draw too much attention, right now, he could not use any attention, for it would slow his progress down.
The person he had to assassinate was the man who arranged these fights. It was a big fat Rodian gangster who had hided from the law and taxes, by the name of Reedo Dormu. He had a big bounty on his head, and Tyro had come to claim it. Whatever it takes.
Meanwhile the fighting continued, and one of the two fighters had knocked the other to the ground. He stood tall above his opponent and then kicked the opponent who lay on the ground against the jaw. Anyone in the crowd might not have heard it, because they were all yelling and shouting, but the man who had kicked his opponent did hear the cracking of the jaw. The fallen opponent lost consciousness and now it seemed too easy for the other fighter to finish his opponent off. And so he did.
A few moments later the judge entered the cage with a microphone in his right hand and said: “And our winner of tonight is Brutus the Crusher! Next week he will be standing here face to face with the winner of last week, come all to see! Don’t miss it!”
The crowd shouted and yelled again and then the fighter and the judge exited the cage and went backstage. Tyro shook his head and saw how some workers cleaned up the mess in the cage and disposed of the body.
The crowd then started to leave the building, allowing Tyro to sneak backstage. It almost seemed too easy.
The red-eyed assassin walked up the stairs and most guards thought he was a worker or something like that, no-one stopped him. Then he entered an office upstairs and he stood there, face-to-face with Reedo Dormu. This Rodian had a green skin, he was very fat and wore a typical gangster-boss suit. The ugly Rodian was smoking a cigar and he was surprised to see this strange young man with the blood-red eyes in his office.
“Who gave you permission to enter my office?” Reedo asked.
Tyro did not respond, but revealed the camera he had hidden in his pocket. He sticked it to a wall and put it on auto-shoot, so it would automatically shoot pictures. He pressed a button to activate it and then looked over to Reedo.
“You are mister Dormu, no doubt.” He said.
Reedo nodded. “Yes, why?”
“Good.” Was Tyro’s only response and he aimed his magnum and shot Reedo dead, before the big fat Rodian knew what hit him. After Reedo was killed, Tyro retrieved his camera and checked on the pictures, and saw the pictures were good, and then put the camera back in his pocket.
A few seconds later guards rushed into the office with guns drawn, they heard the sounds of gunshots.
“What the hell is going on!?” One of the guards shouted.
“I just killed your boss, mate. Ain’t that clear?” Tyro said as he aimed his magnum at the guards. He shot them down and made sure they were dead. Then he turned to the window and put his gun back into the pocket of his dark red longcoat, and grabbed a chair. He threw the chair right through the window and jumped out of it, landing on top of a truck that was parked under the window, with a light thud. He then jumped off the truck and ran off into the dark streets of Coruscant, away from the old factory that was made into a pit-fighters arena.
~*~
After retrieving a reward, and deleting the pictures of the killing of Reedo, Tyro wandered through the middle city of Coruscant and entered a cantina, like he usually did after an assassination. He ordered some cold ale and sat down in a booth in the left corner of the barroom, and thought about what to do next…
As he thought about it, he realized he was getting tired of all the hunting and killing…
He had enough of it, he did not feel comfortable with it anymore. Then he figured there was simply no turning back anymore, and he was stuck in this business. Once you got in, it was impossible to get out. But, he would find a way out eventually. He always did.
“Damn it…” He whispered as he put his glass on the table in front of him and he sighed. Things were getting complicated and even a bit screwed up.
In the beginning he had no problems with silencing people, and he could kill without any thoughts or remorse. He just did it, and did not care. But the last few days, he began to feel regret for his deeds, and he started to hate all the killing. It was becoming simply too much for him, and it was getting the best of him. He had to end this, before it would be too late, if it wasn’t already too late.
He sat back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling. Most people would’ve gotten addicted to deathsticks by now, and though Tyro felt the urge to get deathsticks and try out the stuff, he did not do that. He was stronger than most persons and he managed to stay clean, even though he was sliding into a depressed state. But still his sight was not covered by the darkest blindfold yet. He had not fallen into the depression yet. But, would he ever get out?
“You bet I will.”
The big crowd was shouting and yelling, and 10,000 fists were in the air. Some were standing on their seats and thus blocking the view for other spectators. It was really noisy and the crowd mainly consisted of drunken fools and hooligans. Yes, you have guessed it correct, this whole scene was taking place in the lower levels of Coruscant, the glorious cityplanet. Heart of the very Republic itself. Have you never wondered why, the heart of the Republic, was so dark and ugly. Well, at least the lower levels were. No? You’ve never thought about that? Then you really should pay a visit to those levels one day, and see the misery for yourself.
Anyway, this is not about the lower levels. Though this scene does take place there, as explained above.
In a big old factory which was last used hundreds of years ago, a big cage was set up. Some benches surrounding it, and a lot of thugs sitting on them. In that cage two men were fighting each other to the death.
Yeah, welcome to the glorious heart of the republic.
A handsome young man wearing a dark red longcoat, a black shirt, black leather gloves, dark grey pants and black boots, stood in the corner of the big hall. Remarkable were his ruby-red eyes and his snow-white hair, though his hair could not be seen since he was wearing a beanie.
That man stood there with his arms crossed, and he appeared to be bored as hell. He watched the fight and sighed. Those fighters were strong, but not skilled. They were just smashing like animals and trashing each other up like drunkards, and a lot of blood was flowing. If that red-eyed man had been in that cage, he would have won by now, because he was skilled. But that was not what he came here for. In fact, he came here to kill someone who was not a fighter at all.
This assassin was no-one less than Tyro Fen.
‘Fools…’ Tyro thought to himself. ‘…But it’s money, and I need money. Where’s that target?’
He looked around the area but could not immediately find the one he was after. He put both his hands in the pockets of his longcoat, and in the left pocket was a combat knife and in the right pocket was his magnum. He had not brought his enormous sword, because it would draw too much attention, right now, he could not use any attention, for it would slow his progress down.
The person he had to assassinate was the man who arranged these fights. It was a big fat Rodian gangster who had hided from the law and taxes, by the name of Reedo Dormu. He had a big bounty on his head, and Tyro had come to claim it. Whatever it takes.
Meanwhile the fighting continued, and one of the two fighters had knocked the other to the ground. He stood tall above his opponent and then kicked the opponent who lay on the ground against the jaw. Anyone in the crowd might not have heard it, because they were all yelling and shouting, but the man who had kicked his opponent did hear the cracking of the jaw. The fallen opponent lost consciousness and now it seemed too easy for the other fighter to finish his opponent off. And so he did.
A few moments later the judge entered the cage with a microphone in his right hand and said: “And our winner of tonight is Brutus the Crusher! Next week he will be standing here face to face with the winner of last week, come all to see! Don’t miss it!”
The crowd shouted and yelled again and then the fighter and the judge exited the cage and went backstage. Tyro shook his head and saw how some workers cleaned up the mess in the cage and disposed of the body.
The crowd then started to leave the building, allowing Tyro to sneak backstage. It almost seemed too easy.
The red-eyed assassin walked up the stairs and most guards thought he was a worker or something like that, no-one stopped him. Then he entered an office upstairs and he stood there, face-to-face with Reedo Dormu. This Rodian had a green skin, he was very fat and wore a typical gangster-boss suit. The ugly Rodian was smoking a cigar and he was surprised to see this strange young man with the blood-red eyes in his office.
“Who gave you permission to enter my office?” Reedo asked.
Tyro did not respond, but revealed the camera he had hidden in his pocket. He sticked it to a wall and put it on auto-shoot, so it would automatically shoot pictures. He pressed a button to activate it and then looked over to Reedo.
“You are mister Dormu, no doubt.” He said.
Reedo nodded. “Yes, why?”
“Good.” Was Tyro’s only response and he aimed his magnum and shot Reedo dead, before the big fat Rodian knew what hit him. After Reedo was killed, Tyro retrieved his camera and checked on the pictures, and saw the pictures were good, and then put the camera back in his pocket.
A few seconds later guards rushed into the office with guns drawn, they heard the sounds of gunshots.
“What the hell is going on!?” One of the guards shouted.
“I just killed your boss, mate. Ain’t that clear?” Tyro said as he aimed his magnum at the guards. He shot them down and made sure they were dead. Then he turned to the window and put his gun back into the pocket of his dark red longcoat, and grabbed a chair. He threw the chair right through the window and jumped out of it, landing on top of a truck that was parked under the window, with a light thud. He then jumped off the truck and ran off into the dark streets of Coruscant, away from the old factory that was made into a pit-fighters arena.
~*~
After retrieving a reward, and deleting the pictures of the killing of Reedo, Tyro wandered through the middle city of Coruscant and entered a cantina, like he usually did after an assassination. He ordered some cold ale and sat down in a booth in the left corner of the barroom, and thought about what to do next…
As he thought about it, he realized he was getting tired of all the hunting and killing…
He had enough of it, he did not feel comfortable with it anymore. Then he figured there was simply no turning back anymore, and he was stuck in this business. Once you got in, it was impossible to get out. But, he would find a way out eventually. He always did.
“Damn it…” He whispered as he put his glass on the table in front of him and he sighed. Things were getting complicated and even a bit screwed up.
In the beginning he had no problems with silencing people, and he could kill without any thoughts or remorse. He just did it, and did not care. But the last few days, he began to feel regret for his deeds, and he started to hate all the killing. It was becoming simply too much for him, and it was getting the best of him. He had to end this, before it would be too late, if it wasn’t already too late.
He sat back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling. Most people would’ve gotten addicted to deathsticks by now, and though Tyro felt the urge to get deathsticks and try out the stuff, he did not do that. He was stronger than most persons and he managed to stay clean, even though he was sliding into a depressed state. But still his sight was not covered by the darkest blindfold yet. He had not fallen into the depression yet. But, would he ever get out?
“You bet I will.”
